


Burbuja de Esperanza

by BelfastDocks



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Día de los Muertos | Day of the Dead, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Funny, Hope, Hopeful Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 09:31:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18870481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelfastDocks/pseuds/BelfastDocks
Summary: A short piece on how the Riveras determine that Hector may be able to cross over on Día de la Muertos after Coco's death.





	Burbuja de Esperanza

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's Note:** Short, slightly fluffy, slightly comedic, hopeful. Canon.
> 
>  **Title Translation:** "Bubble of Hope"

## 

Burbuja de Esperanza

It was enough that Coco remembered, that he didn't die the final death before she arrived in the afterlife. It was enough that Miguel had helped her remember in order to save him.

Not being able to cross over into the world of the living on Día de la Muertos because his photograph had been lost during the final fight with Ernesto? Well, that was a small price to pay, and one he humbly accepted. He was still remembered – that was enough.

That Imelda allowed him to move in with the rest of the Riveras was an unexpected bonus. He could always whittle away at Imelda's diamond-hard shell. He had done so once before in life, after all – and when Coco would arrive it would become easier.

Of course, he had never learnt to make shoes like the rest of them, having died before Imelda learned the trade. But the Riveras had made shoes in life, and so they made shoes now in death. And he knew better than to stand around and watch them at it, because Imelda despised idleness. And so, Hector took to sweeping out the shop and cleaning up the excess leather trimmings. This earned him smiles from Julio and Rosita, smirks from Oscar and Felipe, and arched brows from Victoria.

Then came the inevitable – the day Coco joined them. He had known it wouldn't be long after Día de la Muertos, for if he had done his calculations correctly, she was in her nineties. And her memory had clearly been on the verge of fading.

Seeing Coco again was more than he deserved after what he had done to her and Imelda. She hugged him at first sight and called him _papa_ , and he wondered if one could cry in the land of the dead.

Yes, it was enough that he had seen Coco again, even in death.

So when Día de Muertos rolled around once more, shortly after Coco arrived, Hector resigned himself to waiting at the shop for the night, until the others returned from land of the living and could tell him how the living Riveras were doing – especially Miguel.

It was Coco who questioned what he was doing as he sat down at the table and stared hopelessly at his fingers while the others readied themselves for the journey.

"Aren't you coming with us, _papa_?" she asked. "It's Día de la Muertos."

"Wish I could," he admitted wistfully, deliberately not looking at her.

"Why can't you?"

Victoria glanced nervously at Imelda, who had the good grace to at least look rather ashamed.

"It is my fault, _querido_ ," she admitted. "A dead person cannot cross into the land of the living on Día de la Muertos unless their photo is on the family ofrenda. Years ago, I tore Hector's face off the photo of our family. So he isn't able to cross over."

Hector wondered if Coco would be upset with her mother. _He_ wasn't upset with Imelda; it was perfectly within her rights to deny him access to the world of the living after what he had done. But Coco was another story – would she be angry with Imelda?

To his shock, Coco looked between the two of them, smiled slyly, and said guiltlessly, "Oh _mama_ , I knew that. I remember when you did it. So I saved _papa's_ picture from the trash and kept it for years and years, until last year, when I gave it to Miguel the day after Día de la Muertos. He seemed so happy to see it that he cried, though I wasn't entirely sure why he should, since he never knew _papa_."

" _You what_?" Imelda appeared at war with herself: angry at Coco for disobeying her orders, or secretly pleased? It was hard to tell.

Coco chuckled. "I knew you would be angry with me, _mama_ , but it was the only picture I had of _papa_ , and I didn't want to lose it. I didn't want to forget what he looked like."

No, neither anger nor joy in Imelda's expression – it was shame. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "Forgive your _mama_ , Coco. I did a terrible thing in anger and bitterness."

"So then... Miguel has my photo?" Hector felt a strange surge of hope rise up in a chest he no longer had. If Miguel had his photo... Miguel knew how _important_ it was, how _desperate_ he was to visit the Rivera household on Día de la Muertos…!

" _Sí_ ," Coco responded. "I don't know what he will do with it, though. Or if Elena will allow him to put it on the ofrenda." She looked momentarily troubled at the idea that her daughter might _not_ allow such a thing.

"Knowing Miguel," Victoria sniffed, "I suspect he will do whatever he pleases, regardless of Elena."

"Miguel visited the land of the dead last year," Imelda explained to Coco.

Coco looked surprised. "But how is that possible? He is a living person."

Filipe and Oscar laughed.

"It's the funniest story, _pequeña sobrina_!"

"He stole Hector's guitar!"

"He thought it was Ernesto de la Cruz's guitar..."

"Which Ernesto stole from _me_ ," Hector interrupted sourly, glaring at his brother-in-laws.

The twins ignored him and went on.

"And because Miguel stole from the dead..."

"He was transported here!"

"And he couldn't return to the land of the living without his family's blessing!"

"Which Imelda wouldn't give without _conditions_..."

"Because Imelda is _controlling_ like that..."

Imelda looked furious. "I am not _controlling_!" she snarled, but the twins ignored her, too.

"She didn't want Miguel _ever_ playing music because Hector ran out on her..."

"So Miguel ran off to find Ernesto, and he found _Hector_ instead!" 

"And it all came to light before dawn –" 

"That Hector was your papa, and not Ernesto…" 

"How Ernesto stole from Hector..." 

"And murdered Hector..." 

"Oh, oh, there was this giant bell, and it fell on Ernesto a second time! _Muy divertido_!" 

" _Sí_ , _sí_ , it was priceless! Everyone here hates him now because Victoria and Rosita secretly recorded him admitting the entire murder on camera, and it was broadcast to all of the land of the dead! Then he threw Miguel off a building..." 

"But Pepita saved him right before he hit the ground..." 

"And then, your _mama_ and _papa_ were able to send Miguel back _just in time_! Just as the sun was rising!" 

"Two seconds later and he would have become dead himself!" 

"And then he found _you_ , and you remembered your _papa_!" 

"Which is why Hector is with us now." 

Coco laughed at her uncles despite Imelda's scowl at their story-telling. "Ha! That sounds just like Miguel! And explains why he cried so much when I showed him the photograph! He only kept telling me that my _papa_ loved me, over and over. I didn't know what he meant." 

"Because I told him so," Hector whispered. "Because I told him how much I loved you, how much I wanted to go back to you." 

There was an awkward silence, until Imelda said with finality, "Well, it's time. I suspect Miguel will ignore Elena and put Hector's photograph on the ofrenda anyways. Come, Hector. It won't hurt to try to go over." 

" _Sí_ ," Rosita insisted, prodding him out of his seat in her usual, pleasant way. "If Miguel did not put it up, or Elena wouldn't let him, then the worst that will happen is that you won't get to go over." 

"And that's been happening for the past several decades anyways," chuckled Oscar. 

"So no big change, eh?" Filipe grinned. 

"The twins are right, Hector!" Julio said cheerfully. "Come on." 

Hector paused, but when Coco held out her hand, he found the bubble of hope within his non-existent chest was expanding painfully. _What if_ Miguel put up his photo? 

Unable to resist his little girl, he grasped her fingers and let her pull him along to the marigold bridges. Perhaps tonight would finally be the night. 

**~FIN~**


End file.
